The Spider's Domain
by Face-Runner
Summary: Being locked up for a very long time can do many things to one person. And what happens to that person when a precious object is stolen? Join The Spider in this curious tale as he recognizes what its like on the outside.


A/N: Oh, hello. As you see, I am writing about a very curious character, known as, The Spider. He's in the Ulitmate Verse, just so you know. Or I think he is...Yes, he is. Ultimate Avengers. Even though he hasn't been used in a mission, he still seems kickass. Being from the future and all.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Spider, or any of Marvel's affiliations. I do own my account here on FF Net , and am using The Spider under the "Fair Use" license. Was that right? I just don't own that cool sucker. And Marvel, if you see this, DAMMIT EXPAND ON HIM.

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Most times people talk to me, is about the shortest of things. Mr. Stark saw to it that people never have more then three to five words at a time, within spaces of atleast 3 days and forty-two minutes, give or take about ten to twenty minutes according to any sort of anyday relevancy to conformity. Only people that actually gave a damn were Fury, The Green Giant, and Stark, to a lesser extent and about only to consult me about situations that would require nothing less then over 200 IQ.

Still, it's hard to imagine that someone so full of information, can go so long without contact...Well, not really, given if you have a form of entertainment to keep oneself occupied, is a great breaker within solitary confinement...or as Fury put it, "Prison". From where I come from, this "Prison" doesn't readily exist outside of my timeline. Thank goodness for books. I'd be a lost soul if I didn't have any solace in these papery, almost archaic forms of knowledge.

On the relevance of books, some have inquired that my collection looks almost like a Throne...To the point where one had nicknamed me "The Book Bug".

Does that even begin to describe how inanely retarded that sounded? Hello, paging Dr. Daft, its "Bookworm", Jackass. Still, I can't complain, any form of company is always willingly accepted, even if I can't even say "Hello" within two seconds of Stark appearing out of thin air, and immediatly demanding I shut my trap. I counted, he did appear within two seconds. Must look closely at surroundings again to acertate where his footsteps revrebate within twenty-yards of room.

Hmm. I wonder if Stark's doing anything important...I'm sure it's something along the lines of: "Mrs. Jarvis, hand me the Taxes" or "Nick, let me gloat in your face" Or my personal favorite "Mrs. Jarvis, wipe my butt, please". Seriously, he's literally got nothing better to do other then be S.H.I.E.L.D's Go-To-Guy for a crisis aversion. Okay, more or less 'Nothing Better', I'm sure he's currently filing patents and making ludicrous weapons that will most assuredly handle the futures destruction. His Missle System was the one that destroyed the Mans- Whoops, saying too much. Better stay quiet before Bendis or Quesada come in and retcon my happy universe. Please do ask about my awareness, and do ask why I'm being written by a dismal, shaggy writer? Hmm...Fourth walls do not count, maybe.

Keyterm Happy, maybe...Hey...Where's my copy of Astrology Vs The Mind? -Oh, I see now. The stack on the left was reduced by eight inches, and two centimeters cover, near the Biology and Fiction section. Nuts.

Someone took a book while I wasn't looking. How did this even happen? I've been locked up for about the same time I jumped back, only to get new books given and such. Unless someone took it while I was knocked out cold via five pounds worth of tranqualizers. The only time that happened was around a week ago. So, by conclusion, it should not be gone, it should be right here, in my cozy little chamber, next to my neatly parked Orange and purple behind.

This is utterly infallible. If it had been gone this long, how had I not noticed until now? This is rather preturbing, and I'm rather hot at it. No one steals The Spider's books and doesn't get a tounge lashing later.

I didn't mean that literally, I meant I'd speak to him/she/it harshlly and give a lecture about the proper rules of stealing. If who had done it, I'd remark them on their performance, If I wasn't so filled to the brim of my mask with raging tears of justice for the dispense of a tome of knowledge. Was that the right statement? I think so. Yes. It was.

First off, how do I get out? Well thats simple, really, this plexi-glass, specially made chamber is about nineteen feet in height, surrounded by a two and a half wide circumfrence plating that provides light and is a suitable surface for flat objects. Normally this glass would be nigh-indestructable due the firm wrapping around the plate. By that reasoning, it shouldn't be breakable. But down to brass tacks, most genius' overlook the integrity of an object overall. With a few well placed knocks of my fist, it should create a distorted wave of molecules unlike its own, and...

Eureka, shattered glass. Shattered Plexi-Glass. Shattered Super Plexi-Glass. Hmm. Must make a name for it later.

Wow, the floor looks like the Hulk stepped on a glass figurine. Nerd Hulk. Carefulness. Nevermind.

With a simple leap do I jump over the sea of shiney remnant's of the poor Shattered Super Plexi-Glass, and near the doorway out into what I would almost surely marvel at known as the outside world. Outside, speaking of, my chamber, and into a hallway, full of people. Not outside. I need to stop doing that.

With all the carefullness of a Bandersnatch, I clump onto the cieling, and crawl to the door, watching while it shunked aside and I mildly spider-walked out.

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A/N: Alright then...Atleast read, if you please.


End file.
